Move Along
by 1Superman4Me
Summary: Aisling Faolán was just trying to help. The last thing she expected was to be noticed by Superman, let alone to be asked to be part of the Justice League. Join her as she does her best to make things work.
1. Chapter 1

Today started normal enough for me.

I woke up, got out of bed, got dressed then headed out to go take a walk.

Next thing I know, I hear some people in trouble.

Saw the cries for help in red (Yes, I said saw. I have sound-color synesthesia.)

Rescue went well and...Oh crap.

I've been noticed by freaking Superman. That surprised me.

A surprised me will...Wait.

Before I tell you that, I should probably introduce myself.

Hi. My name is Aisling (pronounced Ash-ling) Cecilia Faolán (pronounced fwale-on). My family calls me Ash.

I've got gray eyes and waist length auburn hair. There's a silver clip with a wolf on it inside my hair that I use so my right eye's not covered. Bonus: I like wolves and my last name means little wolf. Hey, I'm proud of that.

I recently turned 15. (Well, it depends on how you count because my birthday's on February 29th.

I'm 5 feet tall. Yes, I know that's short. I was born premature (got told once I weighed 3 pounds) so I can't seem to grow past that height or improve my crappy breath holding skills.

I'm wearing a gray ankle-length and waterproof cloak that comes with a hood (loves me my hobbit cloak. Yes, I call it that. I read a lot of fantasy), a yellow T-shirt with orange, red, and blue butterflies (yellow's my favorite color and I like butterflies which is why I also have on silver butterfly stud earrings which came with pierced ears on my 15th birthday), blue athletic pants (I don't like the way jeans feel, okay?) and gray tennis shoes with sky blue laces.

I'm fluent in American and Irish sign language. No, I'm not deaf. Or mute.

I can, however, shrink myself (and grow back though not past my height), but the smaller I am, the harder a time I have using my other power which, just like the first one I mentioned, makes my eyes look like they're glowing while I use it.

Anyway, it's telekinesis.

I'm sure you might think that's cool but, for me, it has its downsides.

I can't write, actually for some reason I can text and type just fine (my theory is that technology helps, you also know I can recognize the written word, which is good because otherwise I wouldn't be able to read which would suck) and when I try to talk...Well, I will tell you that in a bit.

I live in Wayne Manor. Bruce adopted me after my somewhat overprotective Mom (don't know my Dad), older sister Niamh (rhymes with leave) and younger brother Brendan died in a car accident. (No, none of them were Metas. I've always wondered where I got my powers.)

I was 13. Niamh will never turn 22 and Brendan will never see his 11th birthday. Lucy Faolán's with them "in a better place".

That car accident left me with claustrophobia and added to my dislike of loud noises.

I do like reading (especially fantasy), music, sleeping in, Dr. Pepper and candy. As Alfred would say "Miss Ash, you have a rather large sweet tooth."

Now, back to what happens when I try to talk. We're almost to that.

Shortly after Bruce adopted me, actually I call him Dad now, he took me to Leslie's clinic. She and Alfred were able to figure out that my telekinesis interferes with the Broca's area of my brain.

In other words, because of my telekinesis, when I try to talk, it doesn't really work. I'm pretty much unable to. Instead, no matter how hard I try and, believe me, I've tried, my words will not and, sadly, never will make even the smallest amount of sense.

Instead what comes out, as most of my family refers to it (Yes, refers to. I've been told I'm very precocious), is tele-ka-babble.

This leads to me being somewhat shy and anxious, especially around people I don't know.

As you might guess, I also don't talk. Remember how I told you about my sign language proficiency? That's largely how I communicate.

You are now officially up to speed.

Let's get back to Superman who just so happens to be in Gotham for some reason. As I mentioned earlier, he noticed me. Sure, my synesthesia told me he arrived but, like I said, it surprised me, mainly because this isn't his city and, holy crap, he's offering me a position in the Justice League.

Yeah, quick backtrack. (I know I said that you're up to speed. Bear with me a little bit.)

When I said that I don't talk, that was pretty much true. If I get scared or surprised (told you I'd get to what a surprised me will do), I kind of talk.

By kind of, I mean that I respond to Superman asking me to be a part of the League in one of the only spoken languages available to me. It's also one that I'm the only speaker of.

Yep, you guessed it.

It's tele-ka-babble.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did something happen to you?"

I shake my head no.

"Are you sure? I could fly you to a hospital because it sounds to me like you have aphasia."

I fight the urge to shrink myself in an attempt to get away as I again shake my head no, while somehow managing not to roll my eyes.

Sure, he saw my power (I think so anyway, I've gotten good at making it look like I'm not using it) but I hate having to explain that I do not, technically, have aphasia.

Plus I really hate the way he's looking at me.

I don't need help. My brothers taught me to fight. Why can't you just go back to Metropolis, since that is your city, and leave me alone?

Even though I know he can't read minds (his friend the Martian can) he does eventually leave. Albeit, not after handing me a Daily Planet card for a Clark Kent, explaining that he can get in touch with Superman for me if I take him up on the offer of joining the League.

Get in touch with. Right.

Please. I know that trick from Dad. Clark Kent can "get in touch with Superman" because he IS Superman.

Just after I put the card in one of my cloak pockets, Tim shows up.

Thank God. He can play interpreter because the people I helped still haven't left me alone and I don't think they know sign language.

You'd probably be surprised by the number of people I meet every day who don't. Can it be frustrating? Yes. Was I about to use the convenient text-to-speech app on my phone? Yes, but I prefer sign (especially Irish sign but I meet even less people who understand that) and, whoops, I actually left my phone at home.

I really have got to stop doing that. It's a really nice one that my sister Babs (Dick's wife) gave to me.

Tim, it turns out, has my phone, so the situation ends up getting settled pretty quickly.

Soon, we're at a café because, hey, it is lunch time and having a talk about all that's happened.

It ends with me handing the card to Tim. Bonus: He's a brother I can talk fantasy with and I love it.  
_

Tim's P.O.V  
_

So my younger sister's a hero. Okaaay.

She seems nervous talking about this which would seem kinda weird (given how much you know about our family) but, due to her anxiety and speech issues, she's never actually been in the field.

Yeah, she's a Meta and she knows how to fight but this is Gotham. She should, at the very least, know how to defend herself.

After handing me the card, she sighs then signs _The look on his face really made me wish I could actually talk_.

I know that she can get pretty bummed out sometimes over her inability to talk. Some people can get pretty mean about it.

Sometimes it leads to her letting her frustration out on a punching bag.

One day she was crying and screaming while doing it. Needless to say, we found the guy who led her to doing that and got him good.

Though, after that, she's stuck to online classes. She actually got her associate degree fairly recently. You should have seen the smile on her face. Brighter than a 100 watt bulb.

We had a party to celebrate. She was humming which we know she does when she's really happy. (When she's scared, on the other hand, we try to keep her from shrinking, though she did get down to 6 inches once. We found her because Bruce heard her speaking in tele-ka-babble, or as Alfred calls it "Miss Ash's language.")

She sips her hot apple cider.

"Are you going to do it?"

Her hands start shaking so badly that she can't sign.

I smile and take her right hand in both of mine. "Well, even if you don't, you're still a hero to me."

A smile slowly makes its way across her face. She takes her hand from mine, shrugs her shoulders then signs _Tim, I don't have a uniform, let alone a hero name_.

I grin, wide and toothy. "Well, we can take care of that pretty quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the favorite, TrimusicaDrag00n90. (Kinda wish you'd left me a review though.)  
_

After a lot of thinking, the name that we decide on is Psywolf.

Dick came up with the name Butterpsy but I thought it was la...terrible. (I try not to use the word lame because his wife uses a wheelchair.)

The name Psywolf actually came from Tim and I did my best wolf howl because I loved it so much. We considered adding Little to it as a nod to my ability to shrink but it was soon deemed superfluous. That's what Alfred said anyway. I would have said redundant due to my height or, you know, lack of it.

I'm reading a 2-in-1 book of David Clement-Davies' _The Sight_ and _Fell_ while Alfred makes my uniform. No, I won't tell you what it looks like. You'll have to wait until it's finished which might be when I've finished my book. I hope so anyways because it happens to my one of my favorites.

"Hey, Ash."

Damn it, I was just about to start _Fell_.

I sign _Yes, Dick?_ (The name sign I have for him is a d doing a flip.)

"Are you really joining the Justice League?"

I sign _Maybe officially someday. Since I know Superman knows our identities, Psywolf's starting as a member of the Batclan. I want to make it perfectly clear to him that I'm starting out small._ I don't add that I'll probably freak myself out otherwise because I'm surrounded by family and they likely already know.

Babs smiles. "I'll send him the message, Ash."

I grin, knowing that as Oracle, she's an information source for the capes, thank her (the name sign I have for her is a rolling b) then, to the surprise of no one, get back to my book.

I've just finished Chapter 5 when Tim (the name sign I have for him is a t moving to the left like the page of a book because we're both readers) gets my attention. "So Babs and I agreed to let Superman know Psywolf's a part of the Batclan who mainly works from the sidelines. That sound okay?"

I give him two thumbs up, explaining that one's for each of them.

Just after I finish Chapter 10, Dad calls my name.

Somewhat reluctantly, I look up then make a Y for Yes with my right hand.

"Ash, do you really think that you can handle this?"

I breathe out slowly then nod and sign _It's the secret family business, Dad, I think I can do it_.

He smiles. "We're all confident in you, Dream."

He calls me that sometimes because Aisling means dream. His words make me feel warm inside. I like that feeling and I always have.

Just after I finish my book and put it away, Alfred (the name sign I have for him is an a moving in a circle, like a hug, because he gives good ones and was actually the first one to give me one after my birth family died) gets my attention.

I grin. My uniform's ready.

It's a mostly gray bodysuit (though there's a yellow field in the same spot as Batman's uniform that has an object that looks like it's moving around on it) and a gray cowl with wolf ears on it. Yeah, I'll look like a wolf while wearing it.

Almost forgot to mention there's gloves with various things I'll need inside of them. Clipped to the left sleeve (because I'm right handed) is a text-to-speech device. Plus gray boots with yellow soles that, when I click my heels together, will leave a glow-in-the-dark trail I can use.

I know that's a bit to nearly forget mentioning but, hey, I'm excited. What do you expect?

Though a look outside tells me it's kind of on the early side for Psywolf to make her first appearance.

I snort.

Dick laughs. "Patience, little sister. It's part of how you learned Irish sign language and we all know you like that."

I roll my eyes then sign _The patience was necessary when I was waiting for the guidebook that I learned it from to come. It didn't factor into how I actually learned the language. Sign's always been easy for me._

Babs grins, as she know that especially well, since she homeschooled me for some time because she wanted to learn Irish sign language too. She has the guidebook now.

While I'm waiting for it to be time for me to make my first appearance as Psywolf, I decide to reread O.R. Melling's _The Light-Bearer's Daughter_. I especially like this one because the main character and I have the same last name.

A look outside once I've finished it and put it away brings a grin to my face.

Finally. It's go time.


	4. Chapter 4

Right. First things first.

After giving Alfred a thank you hug, I put on my uniform.

No, I don't need to go to a secure place to do that. I'm already in one. Give a girl some credit, will you?

Turn on text-to-speech device.

Ask, via sign of course, if it's going to make me sound like a robot. (The text-to-speech app on my phone kind of does which is why I hate using it. Plus getting it to say my name the right way was such a pain in the butt.)

Grin on finding out, that thanks to Tim and Babs connecting a lot of audio samples, I won't.

Off to the Batcave!

Yes, I know how to get there. I've actually been there quite a few times with Alfred (mostly to help him take care of Dad's wounds. He has gotten hurt so many times.)

Even though I know how to get in, Tim, dressed as Red Robin, opens the way. "Ladies first."

I roll my eyes then use the text-to-speech device to tell him I'm no lady.

He tells me that does not stop me from being one to Alfred.

Touché.

Okay, I'm in the Batcave.

Nightwing's at the computer.

Well, there's the Batmobile.

Really don't know why it's causing this flashback.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_Whoa, we got hit hard._

_I'm fine but what about everyone else?_

_Mom?_

_Niamh?_

_Brendan?_

_I whistle Mom's favorite song, U2's Where The Streets Have No Name. Nothing._

_I'll try Niamh's favorite U2 song. It's Vertigo. Nothing._

_What about Brendan? He likes Thin Lizzy's Emerald. Oh God, he is not answering when I whistle it._

_I touch him. He's dead._

_I think my family's dead._

_Getting scared. I do not want to be alone._

_After carefully using my telekinesis to get out of the car, partly because it feels like it's closing in on me, I check on Niamh and my Mam. _

_Jaysus, they're all dead. Is é mo theaghlach marbh. My family is dead._

_I want so much to scream their names, praying they'll hear me, but I'm now so scared at finding myself alone that I'm crying and speaking in my babble._

_I try harder to talk right because, maybe, if they hear their names, they'll wake up. After all, they can't be dead. Please don't let them be dead. _

_I don't want to be alone. I can't accept being an orphan with no family, I'm only 13!_

_Darn it, why can't I ever make sense when I talk? Why is my speech always unintelligible? It's not fair._

_I find some grass and sit down then curl up into a ball on it, soon starting to rock back and forth as I continue to cry and talk in my babble._

_After I've made myself hoarse, I hear someone clear their throat._

_I slowly uncurl myself from my ball and get up._

_A man with warm brown eyes and a pencil thin mustache introduces himself as Alfred and asks me if I'm all right in a voice I see as gray with bronze highlights (he must be British, my synesthesia tells me)._

_I shake my head no and, hoping he understands sign, use it to introduce myself and tell him that my family has just died which means I'm alone now._

_"Oh, Miss Aisling. I'm so dreadfully sorry." He takes me into a hug. It feels good so I hug him back._

_After Alfred lets go, another man shows up._

_Holy crap. It's Bruce Wayne._

_In a voice I see as blue-gray, he asks me if there's anyone who can take me in._

_Again, I shake my head no, kind of hating how it feels as if he's treating me like I'm deaf though it's always kind of difficult explaining that I'm not. Or mute. It's just that, for some reason, I've never been able to make sense when I talk._

_Before I can even begin trying to explain myself, yet another person comes our way. I can't help but laugh on noticing that he is walking on his hands._

_He does a flip and grins at me then, in a voice I see as sky-blue like his eyes, introduces himself as Dick._

_I raise one eyebrow._

_"Yes, really. Hey, you've got a great laugh. What's your name?"_

_I forget myself and, in a hoarse voice, speak in my babble._

_Two pairs of blue eyes (the other ones look ice blue) widen._

_Dick runs one hand through his black hair. "Um, Bruce, do you think something happened to her?"_

_Alfred's eyes fill with concern. "She's far too young to have had a stroke but it sounds to me like she has aphasia. Do you know how to write, Miss Aisling?"_

_I bite my lip than shake my head._

_Dick looks at Bruce. "She can't go to the foster center! She'll be eaten alive, I know it!" He gives puppy eyes. "Aisling would be a good name for a little sister and I've always wanted one."_

_Is he going where I think he is?_

_Soon, I'm in his car with Dick holding my shaking body close to him._

_He whispers in my ear that he can hardly wait to be my big brother._

_I slowly smile then tell him, via sign with my hands shaking a little bit, that I've never had a big brother before._

_I notice Alfred smiling at me in the rearview mirror. "Miss Aisling, we have you now. You're not alone anymore."_

_A warm feeling fills me._

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

"Psywolf?" Tim's voice, which I see in a yellow-orange like how I imagine dragon fire to be because drake means dragon, calls me back.

I rub the back of my neck then, feeling somewhat sheepish sign _Sorry, I was having a flashback._

He laughs gently. "Maybe you should ride one of the cycles instead."


	5. Chapter 5

This installation brought to you by the mysterious Guest. Thanks for the review.

* * *

Right. The cycles.

Wonder why I didn't think about using one of those.

It's not that I'm terrified of being in cars, okay? I've gotten better over time.

It's just that they still make me uncomfortable enough that I've got no desire to get so much as my learner's permit. I do, after all, have a pretty significant reason.

As far as getting a motorcycle permit goes, I don't think a trip to the DMV would go well.

The form of ID that I have is a school one and it's worked out pretty well so far. I say pretty well because I've had to correct people on how to pronounce my name way too many times.

Thank God for the movie The Secret of Kells though. Thanks to my name being the same as one of the main characters, I can use an audio sample from that movie to, well, show how to pronounce my name.

Bonus: It's also one of my favorites (even though the other main character has the same name as my little brother and it kind of makes me miss him).

I watch that movie every Saint Patrick's Day to honor my birth family. Hey, in case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm very Irish!

Kind of doubt my Mom got my name from that movie though. It didn't come out until the year 2009.

I remember trying to sing Aisling's song when I was 10. Turns out, singing doesn't work as a loophole.

Yep, even when I try to sing, my words don't make any sense.

Remember that appointment with Leslie I mentioned? She had the idea to try using an inhibitor collar.

I remember how that worked out so vividly.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_After Leslie finishes explaining that my telekinesis interferes with the Broca's area of my brain, which controls language, so I will never be able to talk right, I distantly hear her talk with Alfred about something they could try that might work._

_Hope fills me. There's something that could allow me to make sense when I talk? I have always wondered if such a thing existed._

_Feeling eager to find out what it is, I sign that I don't care what it is and want to see it now._

_Leslie smiles. "If you're sure."_

_Why wouldn't I be sure? Yes, I've been unable to for 13 years now but there's always been a part of me with a hope that you might call almost stubborn. It's that, some day, I will finally be able to talk right. That, for once, my words will make perfect sense._

_Leslie goes off somewhere then comes back holding a collar of some kind in her right hand._

_Okaaay. What, exactly, is that going to do to help me talk?_

_"Aisling, this is an inhibitor collar. Once it's on, you won't be able to use your powers. We were thinking that if we cut off your telekinesis, the interference it causes to your Broca's area will stop, enabling you to access language."_

_I find myself feeling somewhat nervous as I give them permission, via sign, to put it on._

_Once it's on, I clear my throat then decide to try saying my name. Nothing, not even my babble with, due to my synesthesia, its familiar midnight black comes out._

_I try harder, this time going for just the smallest sound of speech. Again, nothing comes out. Honestly, seeing that midnight black might feel kind of comforting._

_I sigh then find my eyes welling up with tears. I blink them away then ask, via sign, why it isn't working and that I really thought it would as I feel that hope, which I now think of as foolish and stupid, die._

_Leslie looks at me. "Aisling, it was only a possibility. I'm sorry but the damage caused by your telekinesis to your Broca's area is unable to be fixed. I hate to tell you it again but you will never be able to make sense when you talk."_

_Sorry? Right._

_You can't possibly understand, you can talk just fine. Bruce can even do so in multiple languages._

_I grit my teeth then, starting to feel angry sign Take. It. Off._

_After she does, I use my telekinesis to take it from her then, feeling my temper starting to increase, break it to pieces which I proceed to stomp under my shoes then telekinetically scatter around the room._

_It's right then, with my anger temporarily spent, that I cry and sign that I'm weak, that I'll always be broken and that I'll never have a spoken language which is made available to me._

_Alfred takes out a handkerchief and, after gently wiping my tears away, gets down so he's looking me in the eyes. "Miss Aisling, you can not mean to tell me that, as smart as you are, you can't tell me that's nonsense. You are not broken. What's more, you do have a spoken language. It's just so very exclusive that you alone know it. Much like my countryman, Mr. Tolkien, you've created your own language."_

_He grins. "I must say that it makes you quite an accomplished neologist."_

_I smile and give him a hug he returns._

_Once it's over, he gets up and smiles warmly at me. "You see, Miss Aisling, you're stronger than you think. Never forget that."_

_My smile widens as I sign that I won't._

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

I shake my head then get on one of the cycles, making sure to choose a two seater because I don't know how to drive yet. Tim does.

We end up going to the scene of a mugging.

I use telekinesis from a distance away and successfully freak the crook out enough that he drops his loot and runs away. I swallow my laughter and, after the citizen picks up her stuff, come out then introduce myself via the text-to-speech device.

She grins. "Thanks, Psywolf. It's pretty awesome to see another hero in Gotham."

Glad she thinks so.

Soon, I'm walking off, feeling pretty proud of myself, enough so that I find myself humming.

A voice that I see as a greenish-red like a ripening tomato stops me in my tracks. "My God, Ash, is that really you I see on the field for the very first time?"

I know who that voice belongs to.

It's one of the Birds of Prey. Huntress.


	6. Chapter 6

I turn around then sign _Yes, Helena, it's really me but I use the hero name Psywolf, okay?_ (The name sign that I use for her is an h moving from left to right, like handwriting, because she was so stubborn in trying to teach me to write though I never could, even by tracing, get it to make any more sense than what happens when I try to talk.

"Psywolf, huh?" She grins. "I like it. So, let me guess, you successfully stopped your first mugging?"

My eyes widen. How did she know?

"In this city, it might as well be an initiation for us crime fighting types. Even the Meta ones."

I roll my eyes then sign _So I'm officially initiated. Yaaay._

She laughs. "Smartass."

I'm Irish. Kinda comes with the territory.

"Well, Psywolf, speaking of crime fighting, I've got a job from O that I should be doing. See you later, alligator."

I use the text-to-speech device to say _After a while, crocodile._

Not too long after I do, Tim shows up. "Psywolf, we've got a mission."

A chance for me to really get my feet wet. This should be interesting.

* * *

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

On our way to our destination, I ask Ash what she was doing.

When she tells me she was talking with Huntress, I remember Helena's persistence in attempting to teach Ash how to write by hand. Well, it could be argued that they both showed persistence.

I saw Ash trying so hard but she couldn't even make so much as a straight line, even by tracing.

I end up guiding her hand in order for her to sign for her library card. Bet you've never seen anyone look appreciative and kind of sad at the same time.

I could tell that Ash also felt kind of nervous too, because it was a new librarian. One who turned out to be pretty spiteful to my little sister.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_I have just finished guiding Ash's hand to write her first name. _

_Before I can start with her last name, the librarian yanks the card away and sneers. "What use could an illiterate fool like you possibly have for a library card?"_

_Ash starts to use sign to explain herself but she's cut off. "None of those deaf hand signals. I want to actually hear an explanation from you."_

_Ash bites her lip and I notice panic fill her eyes._

_"Well? I'm waiting."_

_I start to explain for her but I also get cut off. "I asked for her to explain, not you, boy. Surely, she's perfectly capable of giving me one."_

_Ash sighs then speaks in tele-ka-babble._

_The librarian, who I now notice is named Mabel, furrows her eyebrows. "My God, you mean tell me you're not only illiterate, you're a complete idiot? Why on Earth were you brought here? Surely your parents have lots of picture books for you to look at."_

_Frustration fills Ash's eyes as she tries again to make herself understood._

_Mabel rolls her eyes. "Shoo. I see another patron behind..." Her eyes widen. "Mr. Wayne! What brought you here?"_

_I grin and, with Ash, make way for Bruce. This is gonna be good._

_"I was keeping tabs on my kids." _

_He fixes a Batglare on Mabel. "I heard every word you said to my daughter. She may not be able to write by hand or talk right but that kind of speech about her will not be tolerated."_

_He furrows his eyebrows. "I will not have you treating my little girl as if her I.Q. is lacking when, in fact, it's likely higher than yours. My Ash deserves to be treated with respect not because of the way she is, but in spite of it and, if you can't see that, I will personally see to it that you're never able to work at another library. Am I perfectly clear on that?"_

_She gulps then nods. "As crystal, Mr. Wayne, I assure you."_

_She looks over at Ash. "Aisling, is it?"_

_She nods._

_"I'm very sorry for my horrible behavior towards you."_

_Ash smiles._

_"Would you like to finish signing your library card? I find it so nice of your big brother to help you." I hear her add, under her breath, that seeing that kind of behavior really makes her wish that she still had her big brother._

_Ash must have heard too because, after her card's signed, she uses the text-to-speech app on her phone to tell her that she's Irish and that her people believe that as long as you remember someone, they're not really gone._

_Mabel smiles. "Thank you, Aisling. I needed to hear that more than I ever could have realized."_

_She pulls out a copy of Janet Lee Carey's In the Time of Dragon Moon and hands it to Ash. "Here. You strike me as the fantasy type of girl."_

_The grin that spreads across her face in response makes her answer known to all of us._

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

_Hey, Red Robin, are we there yet?_

I look surprised, if only for a second, at the sound of Ash's text-to-speech device then nod and grin at her. "How do you feel about helping with a bank robbery?"

Soon, I find my grin getting wider.

My little sister has proved, beyond a doubt but not really to my surprise, that she's a natural.


	7. Chapter 7

As I'm eating breakfast, Tim puts the newspaper in front of me. The front page headline reads Gotham's New Hero and it has a somewhat blurry photo of me in action as Psywolf. "Kudos, Ash."

Dad grins. "I knew you'd be a hit. How's it feel?"

After thinking about it, I sign that it feels a little overwhelming, like there's an image that I now have to live up to.

Tim laughs. "You'll get rid of that viewpoint once you make the cover of your first tabloid."

Dad rolls his eyes. "Or get interviewed by Vicki 's nothing that will disillusion you as quickly as yellow journalism."

I've never been interviewed. Dad, for the most part, has kept me hidden from the press. He's told me it's because they're vultures but I doubt that's the actual reason. I've never really wondered about the real one until today.

"An interview might keep people from connecting Psywolf and Miss Ash."

Tim shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe if it was done by the right guy. But who would..."

He snaps his fingers. "I've got it! Ash, do you still have Clark's card? With his skill at covering secrets, he'd be perfect."

Dad nods. "Who better to hide the connection between you and Psywolf than a guy who fools an entire city into not believing he's Superman by wearing a pair of glasses?"

Once I've revealed that I do still have the card and that I wondered what I was going to do with it, it doesn't take too long before I hear the doorbell ring, making me see a silvery white. Guess that must be him.

I nervously run one hand through my hair.

"There's no need to shy, Dream. You'll be okay, he's a friend."

I use my right hand to smooth out my hobbit cloak, white T-shirt covered in rainbow musical notes and soft gray pants then nod.

Wait. I need to know something.

"Yes, Ash, of course he understands sign. You don't really think I'd agree to let my little girl be interviewed by someone who doesn't know her preferred way of communicating, do you? Honestly, why did you think I kept you hidden from the press, except those who somehow got your picture?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"It's because I only want what's best for you. That and if news ever got out of your speech issues, the tabloids would be ten times crueler than Mabel ever was. You've already faced more than enough of how cruel the world can be."

I nod, remembering a time, at age 4, when I had gotten surrounded by bullies easily twice my height. How they had scared me and then mocked me when I spoke in tele-ka-babble. How it turned into a vicious circle that seemed to last hours. How I ended up in the fetal position, closing my eyes to block out the bile green of their mockery. How when I opened them, I found myself being carried away by my Mom, who homeschooled me after that.

I'm snapped back by the sound of Clark's voice, which I see as a yellow-green, like a spring leaf. "Good to see you, Bruce."

I take in the sight of him. He's a bit taller than Dad, with black hair and blue eyes, their color made slightly gray by horn rimmed glasses.

He looks over at me. "The most elusive resident of Wayne Manor. Alfred told me that you answer to Aisling. That's a very pretty name."

I thank him as he comes in.

"Not a problem. Do you mind if I ask why you use sign?" Of course the ever proper Alfred didn't mention why.

I breathe out slowly.

Dad looks at Clark. "I don't want the whole world to know that Ash is unable to make her words come out intelligibly. I won't have her be scorned."

Clark sighs. "Bruce, why do you have to be such a pessimist? We both know that she's an incredibly precocious little girl."

He grins. "Maybe the bullies you've faced were just jealous that you're so much smarter than they are."

I let out a dry laugh then sign that I really doubt it, while asking myself in my head, with those glasses he's wearing, how can he not know how bullies treat nerds?

"All right. Let's get on with the interview. You're 15, right?"

I nod.

"We share a birthday, you know.*"

My eyes widen.

"Yep, we're both leaplings."

I grin and sign that I've never met another person with my birthday before.

"Well, I've never met a person who has sound-color synesthesia before. It's very interesting. As one leapling to another, what color do you see my voice?"

I kind of hate answering questions about my synesthesia, because it almost makes part of who I am feel like a party trick, but I answer him, adding that I like it.

"Huh. Well, it might be due to my parents being farmers."

The interview goes on for almost another hour and a half.

"I think I've got all I need though I'd like to continue keeping in touch with you, Aisling. That sound okay?"

I smile and nod then we exchange cell phone numbers.

"All right. Goodbye now, little miss leapling."

I grin then sign _Goodbye, big mister leapling._

He laughs and heads off, leaving me humming because I've made a new friend.

* * *

*This is canon.


	8. Chapter 8

_Mom! _

_Niamh!_

_Brendan!_

_**No!**_

I wake up the next morning with a blurt of tele-ka-babble and my heart pounding. Been some time since I've had that nightmare.

I look around my room, in an effort to calm myself, as I breathe in and out slowly. Okay.

My vision's blurry and it sounds more like I'm wheezing. That can't be good.

Oh God, my head and stomach hurt too. Plus it's getting harder to think straight.

Focus. You just need to get out of bed and get help.

Nooo. Don't wanna leave my bed. I'm so cold.

You're definitely sick, Aisling, you need to get up and get help.

I try to use what little energy I find myself with to get out of bed but I fall out of it with a thud then end up shivering, completely spent.

The last things I register before losing consciousness is the burnt orange color of me throwing up and my weak but futile attempt to call for help that comes out only as a barely audible whisper of tele-ka-babble.

* * *

Bruce's P.O.V

* * *

As much as she likes sleeping in, it's not like Ash to take this long to join Tim and I for breakfast, especially when, like today, it's French toast. Her favorite.

There must be something wrong with my little girl.

I put down my paper then head to her room, my concern steadily increasing with my speed and Tim keeping up close behind.

I knock on the door, knowing there's a text-to-speech device on the other side of it. "Ash?"

She's not answering.

"Ash!"

Still no answer.

Feeling far too concerned to care, I break open the door with a kick.

My eyes widen at the sight that meets them. "Dream!"

She's unconscious and wheezing as she shivers in a pool of vomit.

I take her in my arms and feel her forehead, finding her skin clammy, as she lets out a phlegmy cough. "Tim, have Alfred cancel any appointments I may have and call Leslie. She's burning up with a high fever and I'm certain that she has pneumonia."

Soon, we're all on our way to Leslie's as she wheezes, her pulse racing.

I can hear her whispering weakly in tele-ka-babble between phlegmy coughs.

Hang in there, Ash. Please.

We'll be there before you know it.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the favorite and follow, cabrera1234.

* * *

Alfred's P.O.V.

* * *

Not a moment after we arrive at Miss Leslie's, Master Bruce races inside, cradling Miss Ash in her nightgown.

I'm far too concerned over whether she'll be alright to care that, not only is she barefoot, she still has vomit in her hair. The poor girl has come down with a nasty case of pneumonia.

Master Tim and I also enter Miss Leslie's at our top speed.

Once Miss Ash is gently laid on a bed, I do some tidying up of her hair and Master Bruce's shirt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Master Tim putting yellow slippers on Miss Ash's feet and making sure that Flynn, her stuffed gray wolf with blue and yellow butterfly wings, is tucked close by.

He must not have wanted her feeling too scared when she wakes up. Good lad.

Master Bruce elevates Miss Ash's head then prepares a wet paper towel which he places on her forehead.

I hate seeing Miss Ash like this. I'm a trained medic, how could I have been so bloody stupid as to not notice my supplies were running low?

Master Bruce gently runs one hand through Miss Ash's hair as her eyelids flutter. "Please, Dream. Wake up."

Ah. There's Miss Leslie coming in.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to..." Her eyes widen. "Aisling!"

* * *

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

I turn to Bruce as Alfred and Leslie do what they can for Ash. "She'll be okay, right? She has to be."

I can tell that he's worried but he puts on a brave face. "She's Irish, she'll fight." He adds in a whisper that she has to.

"I believe falling out of bed might have left Miss Ash mildly concussed."

Panic fills me. "But she already has speech and writing issues!"

Leslie looks at me. "It's possible that they won't get worse though I doubt they'll get better. We won't know for sure until she wakes up."

A silence falls on the room.

Bruce breaks it. "Alfred, are you praying?"

He tells us all that he does so everyday.

Leslie smiles. "It is proven to have medical effects."

How am I just now learning that Alfred's a man of faith?

Just as he says Amen, Ash opens her eyes. Well, how about that?

She looks slightly confused as she shakily signs _What's going on?_

I fill her in.

She nods and, after thanking me for bringing Flynn, grabs him in a hug. He's from her Mom, so, to her, he's treasured.

Soon, we're on our way back home.

After all, Ash has a very important mission to do. It's to get well soon.


	10. Chapter 10

I get out of bed and head to the breakfast table in my pajamas. Since I'm still a little under the weather, I don't quite have my appetite back.

"Well, it's been two days. How are you feeling?"

I smile and sign _Much better._

Dad smiles. "Good. Dick has a surprise visitor for you coming at 1 o'clock so how about you go get dressed after you finish your brunch?"

I nod, wondering who it could be.

Soon, I'm wearing my hobbit cloak, a dark blue T-shirt with a wolf in a forest under a full moon on it and black pants.

Now, who's the visitor. It's getting close to 1.

Soon, Alfred opens the door.

I grin. Dick brought Wally!

His green eyes light up as he greets me, causing me to see kelly green because, like me, Wally's Irish, though, with his red hair, he fits the stereotype more than I do. Sometimes I tease him about it.

Anyway, he calls me Little Red.

I sign back _Hey, Big Red._ (Yes, I know that's a kind of gum. No, I don't care. It's not one I like anyway.)

"I heard that you were feeling a little under the weather. Would a piggyback ride help?"

My grin widens as I eagerly sign a _Yes._ How can I say no when he gives the best ones?

Soon, I'm outside with Wally, getting my piggyback ride (of course). They almost always make me laugh and this one isn't an exception. He increases the speed and my laugh becomes more joyful because I especially like it when he goes fast.

Soon, he stops and gently sets me down on my favorite part of the outside grounds.I'm catching my breath inside a fairy ring.

Yes, I believe in fairies. They have so many titles in Irish.

My favorite one is spéirbhan (pronounced speer-van). It means sky-woman.

I like it because my name can also mean a kind of poetry called a vision poem. That's relevant because in these poems, Ireland appears to the poet as a sky-woman.

Yep, that means you could say my name means sky-woman.

I know a lot about the poems and I think Mom named me after them.

She was a very proud Irish woman who made sure that I could understand the Irish language. She was actually born in Ireland (don't know why she left there for Gotham, I've seen pictures so I know how pretty it is there) so she had a lilt. I remember it could come on pretty strong when she got mad. She left me with my synesthesia. I always enjoyed talking about it with her.

Niamh, my sister, used to try to teach me to sing. She was really good at singing and could even, to Mom's pride, do so in Irish. It's probably for that reason that I didn't listen to Enya for a month after she died.

Brendan was good at hurling.

What?

Oh, sorry.

It's like Irish soccer, only you can also use what's called a hurley stick.

I don't know what happened to Brendan's, though I think someone else has it. He was always loaning to people who might need it because that's just the way he was. Kind-hearted.

He always believed I'd talk right someday. I see his eyes every time I look in the mirror, so, for a time, it was hard to do so, especially since I also get my hair color from Mom.

She kept hers shorter though, explaining that it was more practical for her job as a nurse.

I remember telling me, when I was 10, that I made her want to become a neurologist.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_Mom flips through a big medical book. "I really don't think that there's a reason you shouldn't be able to make sense when you talk. For Christ's sake, you're 10 and you already know algebra! With that kind of precociousness, the fact you can only babble doesn't make any more sense than your inability to write."_

_I shrug my shoulders. It's not like I can change any of those things, though it's certainly not from lack of effort. I try so hard every day to make my words come out right._

_In fact, my throat's kind of sore right now, so I'm drinking tea with lemon and honey._

_Niamh shows up. "She tried singing Aisling's song from The Secret of Kells and her words didn't make sense then either. Went and made herself hoarse too. It's just the way she is, Mam. There's no changing it." She pushes some of her blonde hair out of her dark brown eyes._

_Brendan comes in._

_Mom looks at him. "Brendan!"_

_He has a black eye._

_"Where did you get that, young man?"_

_He grins. "Defending Aisling."_

_I sign that I don't need to be defended._

_His eyes flash with anger. "Not even from someone who was calling you a retard?"_

_Mom snorts. "I hope you kicked the arse of that gobshite."_

_When told that he did, she grins. "Good."_

_She sighs. "Ah, Aisling, my girl. You make me want to be become a neurologist."_

_Niamh grins and starts singing She Blinded Me With Science._

_Mom rolls her eyes. "The kids I raised, I tells you. Jaysus, would you just look at them?"_

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

"Little Red?"

I nod.

"You wanna go inside and get a snack? I could sure go for one, I'm starving."

Wally West, bottomless pit.

I smile and sign _Sure, I'm a little hungry too._

"Your appetite's back to normal. That's great. It means you're probably completely better."

Once we're inside, I grin.

Feels like he's right to me.


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours later, I get a text from Babs on the Batclan's secure line. It reads: Heard you were feeling better. What do you think about having a girl's night out with the Birds to celebrate? I already checked with Bruce. He says it's fine if Psywolf takes another night off.

I smile and, only slightly reluctantly, text back that sounds fine. (Yes, I have a book I want to read but it's not going anywhere. It's not even due back at the library for another two weeks.)

Soon, I'm with Babs, Dinah and Helena getting pizza.

It's a smallish restaurant because, with my synesthesia, I kind of hate crowds. They can make me get sensory overload, which leads to nausea.

Yes, I have gotten good at filtering over the years, mainly out of necessity, but I have gotten sensory overload induced nausea and that's definitely not an experience I care to repeat.

Speaking of my synesthesia, for those of you who are curious, I see Babs's voice in a silvery-green and Dinah's voice as reddish-orange like Alice's cat (as in Alice in Wonderland. Her cat was named Dinah).

Oh, and the name sign I have for Dinah is a d going straight up, like how you'd carry a lance, because her last name is Lance.

The first time I showed Dinah her name sign (I also explained it to her) she said "It's called a lance. Hello?" just like Wat from the movie A Knight's Tale. That made me laugh.

Bonus: Wat's my favorite character, even though he feels, to some extent, like an Irish stereotype. (Come on, he has red hair, a quick temper and he can be seen wearing green.)

Anyway. Girl's night out.

"So, Ash, read any good books lately?" That would be Babs. What kind of a question would you expect from a former librarian?

I sign _Linda Medley's Castle Waiting volumes 1 and 2*._

Babs smiles. "Ash, what makes you think I don't know that's a reread?"

Helena clucks her tongue. "Rereads should still count. I'm a teacher and I say so."

Dinah says that she agrees.

"Majority rules then. Fine."

I grin.

"Okay then. Ash, speaking of me being a teacher, did you finish the homework I gave you?"

Right. The homework.

She knows I'm smart so she wanted me to translate the book of Kells.

What she probably didn't expect is me telling her it was easy because I already understand Irish.

She gasps. "But the language is endangered**!"

I laugh then sign that I had a proudly Irish mother.

"That would do it. I've read it's a very hard language to learn, maybe in part because it's not phonetic."

Dinah laughs. "You've seen how Ash spells her full name. Are you seriously telling me that you, the teacher, are just now learning the Irish language isn't phonetic?"

Helena scowls. "I teach English and speak Italian."

I sign _Can't care, won't care._ (That's kind of a joke because it's the name of a show that has an Aisling in it.)

Helena rolls her eyes. "Not funny."

Didn't know she'd get the joke.

As I'm finishing up my pizza, I notice a middle aged woman making her way to our table.

Once she's there, she grins at me. "I have a son about your age who's hard of hearing. He wanted me to ask you to what degree are you deaf?"

I hate it when people think I'm deaf.

Aphasia, though it's something you already know I don't technically have, is the cover the connection between me and Psywolf answer that my family agreed on using.

What's more, it's what the article of my interview with Clark Kent says I have, though there's some truth mixed in because he says it's due to me being born premature. (As you know, that effected my lungs.)

Guess she hasn't read the article.

I sigh then sign that I'm not deaf. (Think you can figure out what I add.)

"Aphasia. I thought only old people got that. My father got it from a stroke. So I know it's not that you're deaf, it's that you can't make your words come out the right way. The order gets all tangled up, doesn't it?"

Well, you know that's not true but she doesn't.

I don't like to lie but I can correct her, thankfully using the truth.

"So your words don't make any sense at all? Precious lamb. Why don't you try for me? You can give saying my name a go. I'm Agnes. Ag-nes. Go on."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, partly because I hate how it feels as if she's talking to a toddler, then speak in...Well, you know what it is by now.

"Why, that didn't sound like any of the seven languages I know." She pats my head. "Poor thing. I'll keep you in my prayers. I'll make sure that my husband does the same."

Patting my head? Seriously?

I'm not a dog.

I consider barking as a joke but decide against it.

Thankfully, it's not too long after her conversation that she leaves.

I roll my eyes after she's gone. I've had encounters like that before. I always see the person's voice in a muddy brown because their pity makes me feel like dirt.

"So that's what it looks like on the other end."

I raise one eyebrow.

"Come on, Ash, you seriously don't think my chair gets me that kind of attention? Yeah, you can tell Jesus to bring me a new spine."

I snicker then ask if she would like fries with that.

"And Coke with a bendy straw."

Helena, being Catholic***, raises one eyebrow. "You guys through?"

I nod and Babs agrees. "Yeah, sorry Helena. It's just that those kind of people can be so aggravating. False sympathy is the worst."

I correct her, signing that it's pity then add that pity from some people is a noxious and insulting sort of tribute, which one is justified in hurtling back in the teeth of those who offer it; but that is a sort of pity native to callous, selfish heats; it is a a hybrid, egotistical pain at hearing of woes, crossed with ignorant contempt for those who have endured them.

Dinah's eyes widen. "Whoa. Who said that?"

I shake out my hand then sign that Rochester says it to Jane in _Jane Eyre_, adding that it's my favorite classic in all it's protofeministy goodness.

Babs grins. "Good choice, Ash. Want to go to my tower and watch the movie?"

I nod while mentally keeping my fingers crossed that it's good. I've seen the monstrosity that was the Artemis Fowl trailer and the Inkheart movie was incredibly disappointing. Is it so hard to ask that when they adapt a book into a movie, they do it right?

Not that I'm throwing shade on Treasure Planet. I still have a little bit of a crush on Jim, not that I'll ever admit it. Plus I really want a solar surfer. They look so much fun.

Anyway, Dinah agrees to see the movie with us. Helena opts out.

More ice cream for me.

Okay, we're here and...The movie's two hours long. So says Babs.

Well, the book, depending on what edition you have, can be up to five hundred something pages. (If you think that's long, you haven't read _The Count of Monte Cristo_.)

I look at the clock. Okay, it's 7:30 now. More than enough time to watch the movie and go to bed kind of early.

Sure, I usually have a "night shift" but I still need my sleep.

Hmm. What kind of ice cream should I choose?

I run one hand through my hair then decide to go with mint chocolate chip.

Nomnomnom.

* * *

*I very highly recommend these, though make sure Volume 2 has the author's name on the cover. It's not complete otherwise.  
**This is true.  
***This is canon.


	12. Chapter 12

It's Saint Patrick's Day! That means you better wear green.

Unless you want to get pinched, that is.

I'm wearing my hobbit cloak, a green T-shirt with gold and silver shamrocks and blue pants. My pinching fingers are ready.

But first, it's time for breakfast. I always have Lucky Charms.

That tradition was started as a joke by Brendan when he was 7. I've never been sure how much of a role my Mom played in getting it to stick.

Off to the kitchen.

Sure, I'm telekinetic but it's nice that the cereal's kept where I can reach it. Being short can seriously suck sometimes.

I remember when Babs, sick of being called differently abled, called a guy a bit taller than me "vertically challenged".

You should have seen the look on his face. It was hilarious.

Personally, I don't use either term for myself, though I hate the sound of the word disability. Always have.

I remember, when I was 3, the first time I ever heard it.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_A doctor looks at my Mom. "So you say there's a problem with your daughter's speech?"_

_Mom nods. "None of her words ever come out right. She's 3 years old, surely she should be able to talk."_

_The doctor makes a noncommittal noise. "Can she demonstrate for me?"  
_

_I look at my Mom._

_She smiles. "It's okay, a chailín*. He's here to help."_

_I nod then lick my dry lips and forcefully speak in my babble, thinking that might make my words come out right. It does make some hair fall over my eye._

_"And this has always been what happens when..." He checks his notes. "Aisling tries to talk?"_

_Mom gently moves the hair over my eye out of the way. "Quite so, Doctor, and frankly I'm concerned. She'll be starting pre-K next year and I should have some sort of explanation for the teacher about this. It's not been the case with my Niamh. Brendan babbles too but he's still a baby."_

_The doctor looks over his notes again. "Hmm. Born premature. It's possible she just has a speech disability though it sounds like a pretty severe one to me. I've never seen one quite like it. I'd like to get an EEG or an MRI. Scanning her brain might be a good place to start, Mrs...How do you pronounce your last name?"_

_Mom tells him._

_"Thank you. Now let's get that brain scan."_

_I fidget._

_Mom gently runs one hand through my hair. "It will be alright, a stór**."_

_The brain scan is over pretty quick._

_The doctor looks at the reading then crumples it up and throws it away, muttering that it can't be right, though only I hear him._

_While he's distracted, talking to my Mom about how I have a brain disorder, I reach inside the trash can and grab the reading. I want to see it._

_After finding it, I hide under a table and un-crumple it as quietly as I can. _

_I may not know how to read it but I think it looks pretty normal. Why is he lying to my Mom?_

_I fold it and hide it in my pocket._

_Soon after we arrive at home, I give it to my Mom. _

_"What do you have there, Aisling, my girl?" She unfolds the paper. "Is this the reading from your brain scan?"_

_I nod._

_"Clever girl. Surely, far too clever by half for someone with a "brain disorder". That doctor was a gobshite. Well, there's no tricking this Irish woman! You want to watch your Mom handle this?"_

_I grin._

_"Grand. I know just where to start."_

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

Just after I finish my cereal (and my movie), Alfred gets my attention.

"You have a letter, Miss Ash."

I grab it from its spot on the table, noticing it's from a Padraig Faolán.

My heart pounds. Faolán?

I open it, though my hands shake as I do.

Well, if this letter's true, Padraig Faolán is my Dad. He wants to meet me tomorrow at noon.

Dad runs a DNA sample provided in the envelope. Surely it can't be my real Dad.

If it's not him, then why would he claim to be?

On the other hand, if it is him, why is he only showing up now? Surely after the car accident would have been a better time to do such a thing.

Or he could have planned a visit, you know, any time before that.

Anyway, I'm not quite sure exactly which possibility scares me more. The one where it turns out I am related to him or the one where I'm not.

Oh. The results have come in.

"My word."

Yep.

We're related.

* * *

*Irish for my girl.  
**Irish for my darling (literally my treasure).


	13. Chapter 13

Due to surprise and, I admit, some nervousness, I'm pretty sure you can guess how I express my feelings on finding out about my Da.

I'm also finding it extremely difficult to control my telekinesis, so there's various things that look like they're floating around.

"Ash, put me down!"

Whoops. Sorry, Tim.

I breathe in and out slowly, managing to gain control of my telekinesis in about three minutes, though Tim is the last...object, I guess to go back down.

I haven't lifted a human with my telekinesis before. Dick had me try with him once, though, when I was 13.

Tim is actually the first organic being that I've been able to use it on. Not sure how I feel about that and I sure can't speak for Tim.

He tells me that he's honored.

I furrow my eyebrows.

"Really, Ash, I am. It was just surprising, that's all. Guess that this Saint Patrick's Day had a surprise for both of us."

I roll my eyes then sign that I think I would have preferred his.

"Yeah, I guess. Aren't you at least a little excited though? You have two Dads now."

I slowly breathe out. How can he make it sound so easy?

I don't even know this Padraig Faolán!

Honestly, Tim, it's not like you don't know that. Know that I'm already with my family. Know that the one you've made is just as important as the one you were born with.

Feeling exasperated, I find myself trying to shout his name. To ask him he can't not get this.

God, I haven't been wanting to get through to somebody this bad since the accident.

"I can't understand you, you know. No one can make sense of your speech. I've run it though the Bat-computer, there's no parts of it that resemble any known language. Even alien ones."

I bite my lip, having never been told that before. Sure, I (obviously) already knew my words don't make sense but hearing that it's in a way no one can understand, well, I don't think I was expecting that.

To be honest, it feels like a sucker punch.

I sit down, finding myself stunned by his words. Enough so that my eyes well with tears.

Those words seemed almost cold, really.

"Ash, I didn't mean for that to sound that way. I thought Bruce would have told you that already."

I shake my head, because I find that a part of me doesn't want what he said about my speech to be true, as tears fall down my face. I wipe them away then get up and look at my Dad, finding myself feeling desperate as I plead in sign for him to tell me that what Tim said about my speech is a lie.

"Ash, he's right. I'm sorry."

No.

I grit my teeth. Why do I even try to talk anyway?

Yeah, I have my own language, all right.

It's crap! Steaming, fly-infested crap!

To hell with my nervousness. I am going to see my Dad tomorrow. The sooner it arrives, the better.

Don't think I want anyone with me either. I can handle this visit by myself, never mind my speech. Never mind that it doesn't resemble any known language.

I've known sign since I was 4 and, if Dad doesn't know that, I have my text-to-speech app.

Hmm. Maybe I'll grab a text-to-speech device and sneak out to visit him early.

I remember the return address and I know where it is too. Know that it shouldn't take too long to get there. I'll just wait until it gets dark, grab some essentials and go.

Should I leave a note telling where I went?

Nah. The world's greatest detective lives here.

Let him figure it out. I've got my own mission.

* * *

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

It's time to go out on patrol but where's Ash?

I check her room. Uh oh.

Her phone isn't in the spot that it usually is. Neither is the text-to-speech device on the back of the door.

Did she go somewhere? Where could she possibly be?

I gulp, having a sudden sinking feeling where.

She went off to find Padraig Faolán. I've run his name through the Bat-computer.

Damn it, why didn't I do it sooner so I could show Ash what I found?

She's not answering her phone. That's not good.

Neither is the fact that Bruce and Alfred haven't gotten an answer either. Not even Dick and Babs. Definitely not good.

I pull up the Bat-computer's search result for Padraig Faolán again, not wanting them to be true.

I knew I should have found a better time to finish my book.


	14. Chapter 14

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

I look at the screen and shake my head.

Well, now I know why this guy took so long to visit. I almost wish that I didn't.

God, this guy's a monster.

Kind of hate filling you guys in but here goes.

Padraig Faolán has, to put it mildly, a bad track record when it comes to kids.

He's abducted quite a few. Used them in weird experiments.

Maybe that's where Ash got her powers from.

No, that can't be right. Surely her Mom would have known if that was the case. Would have told Ash if something that her Dad did led to her led her to being the way she does seem to have a thing for children with disabilities.

I'm beginning to think that he gave something to her Mom when she was pregnant with Ash. That something led to her being the way she is and coming out premature.

I think that he might have been able to use Ash's premature birth as a cover up of sorts. After all, I've been able to find out that neither Niamh or Brendan were preemies.

Now, why would he choose the middle child? Maybe a look at his family records would answer that.

Yeah, here we go.

The middle child of his family had Down's syndrome. His Mom lavished attention on that kid.

As for Padraig, the youngest, he was getting abused. Looks like it was pretty bad too.

So choosing the middle child would have been like a twisted revenge of sorts.

Okay.

Yeah, he's definitely responsible for Ash's speech issues. He knows a lot about only language but the brain so it probably wouldn't have been too hard for him to...mold, I guess, Ash into being how she is.

God, I hope that he doesn't have powers too.

Since I still can't seem to reach her and give her some sort of warning, I can only wonder how she is.

* * *

Aisling's P.O.V.

* * *

Well, here's the place. I knock on the door.

He answers it. Well, now I know where I get my eye color from.

He smiles. "Why, you must be Aisling. Guess you couldn't wait to see me. Come in."

I go inside then look around.

"Awfully quiet, aren't you? I may not have seen her in many a year but I'm pretty sure your Mam didn't give birth to a mute. So you got anything to say to me? It can be in Irish, if you like. I speak the language fluently."

I use Irish sign to say _Do you understand this?_

"Yes, but don't you have spoken words? Come on now, I'm pretty sure you're not deaf."

I sigh and, still using Irish sign, tell him that the reason I don't talk is a bit more complicated than me being deaf or mute.

"Well, go on and tell me. This is my first time meeting you, after all. Surely, you can't expect me to know said reason."

He does have a point.

I explain myself then shrug my shoulders in a sort of what can you do do expression.

"So you've never been able to make any sense when you talk? That's just terrible."

His smile widens. "I'm good with language and the brain. You mind if I do something? After all, you shouldn't have that kind of trouble with your speech. You should be able to write by hand."

My eyes widen then I sign _You can change that?_

"I'll have to take you somewhere first. Now, the location's a secret. I like my privacy, you see. Anyway, I'd like you to close your eyes."

Okaaay.

I do so, though I can't help but be a little curious, especially when he puts a blindfold on me. Apparently, it's so I don't peek.

He leads me to what must be some sort of transit then, shortly after buckling my seatbelt, heads off. Wonder where we're going.

I don't feel sure how long it takes to arrive at our destination but we do eventually stop.

He leads me somewhere...No, it's definitely a lab of some sort. I can smell chemicals.

I hear him move around some things. I'd like to ask him if I can take off the blindfold but I can't sign with my eyes closed.

"Almost finished, Aisling. Sorry about the wait."

I start to count in my head.

After I've reached 300, the blindfold's finally taken off.

I look around.

"Welcome to my lab/study. Do you like it?"

I nod.

Just as I'm about to ask if he can show me around, I notice an odd feeling of pressure around my right ankle. My eyes widen when I find out out that its coming from a fetter.

He's chained me to the wall!

I can feel an inhibitor collar on me too. What is going on here?

Feeling confused I sign _This isn't what I had in mind when you said that you were going to do something._

"Oh, but I have done something."

Okaaay.

I sign _What about my speech issues and the fact that I'm unable to write by hand? You said that I shouldn't have that kind of trouble._

"So I did. It's true, you know, but most likely not in the way that you're expecting."

His smile turns evil. "You see, I'm the one who made good and sure of those things. I wanted a child who wouldn't talk back to me."

He makes a noise of disapproval. "It's really such a shame that didn't quite turn out the way that I wanted it to. Guess I'll have to fix that."


	15. Chapter 15

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

Okay, she's not at the address.

I can't get a fix on her location. Where could he possibly have taken her? I doubt it's somewhere she's safe.

Wish I could unlearn some facts about the kids he's altered.

One of them, a 13 year old girl named Caitlin Power started out normal enough. When he was done with her, she was unable to say words of more than one syllable and her writing, which used to be so neat, had almost all backwards letters. Even some of her numbers come out backwards and, to this day, none of those things have changed.

Moira Delaney, age 11, left him with her word slurred and her handwriting unchanged, so I guess he took her earlier, though, like Caitlin, the effect on her speech was permanent. I was able to find out that she's refused to touch so much as a drop of alcohol.

Kelly Flynn, the girl he took a few months before Ash was born, still has garbled speech and crooked handwriting from what he did to her when she was 12.

Anyway, in case you haven't figured it out yet, he goes after those with Irish ancestry. I can't be the only one who thinks that the large population of Irish-Americans leaves him with way too many people to choose from.

I really don't want to believe that he'd go with, out of all of them, his own daughter.

I clench my fist, hating that he has her.

Screw Bruce's rules. I'm calling in outside help on this.

Well, I was going to.

Bruce himself has beat me to it.

He looks at me after he's finished. "I'm getting her home any way I have to. Your little sister will make it back okay."

I find myself blinking tears back and nodding. Please let him be right.

Soon, the cavalry arrives in the form of Superman, Flash, Black Canary, Huntress and Nightwing.

I can't seem to trust myself to speak but it's Bruce who fills them all in anyway.

Nightwing raises his right hand in the air like he's carrying a sword. "For Gotham and for Aisling!"

I smile.

He's modified Peter's shout of "For Narnia and for Aslan" in the movie The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Ash's favorite Chronicle of Narnia, though she doesn't care too much for its treatment of wolves.

To my slight surprise, we all end up echoing him before we take off.

We're coming, Ash.

* * *

Aisling's P.O.V.

* * *

I look around nervously.

Jaysus, I'm scared. What's he going to do to me?

I reach a trembling hand to the inhibitor collar.

He stops me then shakes one finger. "Ah, ah, ah. Mustn't do that. You see, I've rigged that collar. If you try to remove it, you'll get a rather nasty shock."

He smiles. "Consider that your warning. Oh, and the same thing goes for the chain."

He looms over me. "Got it?"

I nod.

He takes a step back from me. "Good. We understand each other."

He gets back to what he was working on. I don't think that I want to know what it is.

There's actually three vials. Each of them has a syringe by it.

I idly wonder if one of the vial's contents will fix me.

That would be a surprise, though I kind of doubt it would take effect all at once. After all, I've been like this for 15 years.

It's kind of funny how they've never seemed so long before. Maybe it's because I've never had the possibility of being any other way presented to me. It kind of goes without saying that I really wish that it was under better circumstances.

Can't seem to help being reminded of how Brendan would try to teach me to get my words to come out right. How he'd do it in Irish too.

I'd always try so hard, but the end result of almost all of those lessons, for me anyways, was a sore throat.

That led to me going through quite a bit of Irish breakfast tea, a kind of tea which, to this day, I still like. Alfred has always made sure to "keep some on hand for me".

I remember the first time, after I was adopted, that he made me a cup. How he comforted me when the smell made me cry because it reminded me so much of home and my family.

(To be honest, it still kind of does, especially Brendan and Mam. She drank a good amount of tea, always saying that she couldn't stand coffee. Niamh was a tea drinker too, but she only had the Irish breakfast kind on Saint Patrick's Day.)

I wonder what Brendan would say if he knew about the possibility of me finally being able to talk right. What Dad, Alfred and my brothers would say. Heck, what anyone who knows me would say.

Sure, Alfred's told me I'm special just the way I am but what if that's not how I want to be?

I look at the vials.

Padraig, who has finished his work on the third, notices.

He smiles. "Like my work, do you? Tell you what, since you are my daughter, I'm going to let you pick one. One will make it so your speech issues and the fact that you can't write by hand will gradually improve. One will do the same but also take away the powers that you can thank your grandfather for. The remaining one will leave you unable to write by any means while also robbing of you of the ability to read or speak in your babble."

He takes off the inhibitor collar. "Now that's a mark of good faith. I suggest you choose a vial quickly, or else I will simply have no choice but to do the worst one. After all, I wouldn't want my hard work to go to waste."


	16. Chapter 16

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

Since we have no idea where Ash is, we've split into teams.

Dick, Bruce and I are Team Bat.

Superman and Flash are Team Super.

Black Canary and Huntress are Team Bird.

Did I mention that we split into teams just before we left?

No, I didn't.

I know that may have been a good detail to mention but, hey, I'm nervous about my little sister. What do you expect?

The fact that Gotham's so big certainly doesn't help.

Padraig didn't take her out of Gotham, did he?

Who am I kidding, there's any number of places that he could have taken Ash. Any number of things he could be doing to her.

I shake my head in an effort to get rid of the image of the hurt look on her face when I told her about her speech. At least there's not a way that could be made worse.

He could get rid of it altogether.

Stop it! Focus on the mission, Tim.

Dick looks at me. "You all right, T-bird?"

I nod. "Just worried about Ash."

He smiles. "That's okay. I am too. I'll bet Batdad is also."

Batdad. Heh.

It does work.

:Team Super checking in. No sign of Ash in Metropolis.:

That was Superman.

Flash tells us that she's not in Central City either.

Well, that's two cities down and who knows how many to go.

I breathe out slowly.

Please let us find Ash soon. We've already searched half of Gotham.

:O here. I've got a lead.:

My eyes widen.

Before I can say anything, Dick asks about Ash's location.

:I'm tracking a signal from Ash's text-to-speech device. Took me a while to get it but I'm pretty sure I know where it's coming from.:

She gives us the address.

As we head there, I can only hope that we don't arrive too late.

* * *

Aisling's P.O.V.

* * *

Let's see.

It's probably not the one that he just finished working on, so it must be one of the first fact that the contents of all of them look so similar doesn't help.

Hmm.

The one that wouldn't take away my powers would probably take less work.

I ask if he can tell me how long it took to make each one before I make my choice.

"Of course you can, though I must confess I fail to see how exactly that would assist you in making your decision."

It's only after he tells me that it comes to him. Only after it's too late because I've made my choice.

What's more, just after he injects me, Batman, Red Robin and Nightwing come in.

He's wailing about how he gave me the wrong vial as Batman takes him off.

As for me, well, Nightwing has taken off my fetter. Thankfully, I didn't get shocked.

I rub my eyes and, in a garbled voice, say that I'm so tired.

Garble. Hey, it's working.

Bonus: A check reveals that I still have my powers.

I'm too exhausted to notice my family's surprise.

In fact, the last thing I remember is Red Robin catching me as I collapse.

* * *

Tim's P.O.V.

* * *

I actually kind of understood Ash saying that she's so tired.

Padraig must have given her something that helped her speech issues and, more than likely, her handwriting. Who thought that was in him?

I want to believe it's because she's his daughter but Ash is pretty much the only one who can tell me if that's true. Given the way he railed about giving her the wrong vial, it probably is to some extent the truth.

Dick's carefully thrown the other two vials away in a bin for hazardous waste.

I wonder if there's a way of returning the other people he's abducted to way that they were before him.

Oh, good. Ash still has her powers.

I thought for sure he'd find a way to permanently get rid of them, not just by using the the inhibitor collar I can't help but notice.

Ash's powers must have come from his side of the family. It's really the only explanation for how he knew to use said collar.

She's collapsing!

I catch her.

All right, Ash. Let's get you home.


	17. Chapter 17

After I've had breakfast, Tim has me try to write.

We discover that I can make straight lines but not curved or diagonal ones. As for making dots, I could do that before I got the injection. So there are a handful of letters I can make now.

Tim grins when I make a capital T.

Once the handwriting practice is over, it's on to improve what Alfred calls my elocution.

The more syllables a word has, the harder a time I have trying to make it understood.

It's in a halting voice that I say, for the first time, I am Ash to grins from my family.

Oh, and I don't see my speech in midnight black any more. It's a green-gray.

Plus it sounds like I have a hint of my Mom's lilt. My eyes well up when I hear it.

Hear that, Mam? I sound a little like you, especially when I speak Irish. It kind of makes me feel as if I have you, Niamh and Brendan with me when I talk.

When I sing, on the other hand, I feel I sound more like Niamh, though I don't think I'm anywhere near as good at it as she was.

As for Padraig, he's in jail.

Superman and Flash have him making solutions to help the other people that he tampered with.

Dad suggested I meet them but I don't think that I want to. I don't think that they'd want to meet me either.

Why would they?

I have the last name and eyes of the man who altered their speech and, in most cases, ability to write by hand. They'd probably hate me.

Alfred, however, hit on the idea of me administering the solutions.

I think I'd like to do that, actually. Sort of a clearing of my name. I'm the good wolf.

Anyway, after a couple of days, I'm administering the first solution to Moira Delaney. Unlike mine, hers works instantly. It did have less to repair.

On to the next person!

By the time I've administered all the solutions, my own speech and handwriting are how they should be. I can't help but grin when I find that out.

The news of my miraculous recovery ends up getting spread pretty quickly, though, thankfully, it doesn't expose my connection to Psywolf, who, I might add, is now a part time member of the Justice League.

Hey, Batman is too so, as they say, like father, like daughter.

You'd have to know him to be able to tell that he was proud though. What can I say, my Dad can be emotionally constipated.

Nightwing and Red Robin were there for my inauguration too. Much like Flash, their pride of me was really obvious.

I mean, Nightwing whooped. Brothers, I tells you.

As for my emotional state, I'm not as shy as I used to be and I'm working on my anxiety. I should add that I speak in Irish when I'm surprised or scared now, though I don't feel completely sure why.

To change the subject, as you might have guessed, I can sing Aisling's song from The Secret of Kells now.

I actually did it for the first time on Dick's birthday. He seemed to like it, though, give me some credit, that's not the actual gift I gave him.

No, I got him a big book of elephant pictures. He really likes elephants. (That's what happens when your brother's a circus peanut.)

I still have the copy of Jim Brandenburg's Brother Wolf: A Forgotten Promise he gave me with Spirit of the Wolf by Shaun Ellis. Sure, I like to read but pictures are good too. Ones of butterflies can be really pretty.

Anyway. Dick's birthday.

Tim and Babs made an app that you can use to raise your own virtual elephant.

Hey, that reminds me I can probably get rid of my text-to-speech app. It's not as if I have a sentimental reason for keeping it.

Probably couldn't hurt to still have it though. I mean, what if I get laryngitis?

Right. You're probably wondering what Dad got Dick for his birthday.

Well, he donated an amount of money that would be ridiculous for anyone but him to an organization that helps protect elephants. Just like he does every year.

Dick, being a notorious punster, refers to said money as the ele-fund. Yeah, we roll our eyes at that too.

Alfred, as always, makes the birthday cake and, just like every year, it's delicious.

Unlike all the other years, though, this is the first time that I have been able to join in singing the happy birthday song.


	18. Epilogue

Tim's P.O.V.

"Hey, Ash, you ready to go on patrol?"

I look around. "Ash?"

She grows to her full size right in front of me. God, that's kind of unnerving.

I notice she's in her uniform when she grins at me. "Boo."

I roll my eyes. "Not funny."

She does a flip and lands on a seat to one of the cycles. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, we've got butt to kick."

I laugh, finding myself unable to get mad at her, then get in the driver's seat of the cycle.

After all, it's going to be a great night for fighting crime.


End file.
